The First Time Missing Chapter
by TaleNeverTold
Summary: Thoughts on what might have happen that night in Blaine's house


**The First Time. Missing Chapter**

**POV Blaine**

**Blaine's house. THAT night...**

Floor wood creaks announcing our arrival to the house. Even though there's nobody to announce it to – the house stands empty as my father is absent. As always. You'd think I'd be used to him being all-so-busy during every single one of my performances, but no – it still hurts. Well, he was never supportive of my passion for music (I kind of feel that he blames the music for me being gay and all that stuff) but at least he went along with it during the Warblers time – main lead spot somehow leveled it up for him. And since my transfer to McKinley things got a lot heavier… Especially considering my reason for the transfer…

"My reason" caught my eyes with his enchanting gaze – when something so beautiful is looking at you there's simply no way to look away! Kurt raises his voice:

- What should I do to tempt you to come back to me from where you've gone to?

"Tempt ME". "To come back to HIM". He just knows how to pick THOSE words, right? 'Cause if he will ever do anything to deliberately TEMPT me – I'm going to become another case of spontaneous self-combustion! Him being here, in my empty house, is tempting enough to get me started at all kinds of crazy ideas! And he seems completely oblivious to this fact!

That is why I have to play nice. I have no right to misinterpret his reasons for coming here tonight – it may be totally innocent… or may not… in which case I'd insult him by not being sensitive enough…

Oh, stop making excuses for yourself! You've screwed things up a lot with your horny-shadowed ideas! So keep it simple… and you may start with being a good host!

- Do you want anything? – my voice chokes on that question as it sounds so trivial in comparison to the thoughts I had moments ago.

Kurt looks surprised. Why would my offer surprise him? I don't have time to think about it since his expression changes to calculative and then amused as if he has solved something in his head and is very pleased with the outcome. I guess I'll never understand how this handsome head of his operates…

Kurt breaks though my musings with simple request:

- Water would be nice, if you please. I'd be upstairs, - and he leaves me standing there with another hurricane of thoughts…

Upstairs. My bedroom. We have a whole house to ourselves and he chooses my tiny bedroom to hang out… Well, that's… unsettling…

Ah, shut up, Blaine! Don't read too much into this! You always hang out in your bedroom, no biggie! Or maybe he just went up there to check the latest issue of Vogue – this particular boy always has to be in tune with fashion =) Sometimes his outfits are too fashionable to understand – and that's saying something since I'm not a newbie in fashion education myself. But today he chose much simpler look – you can even say he went casual… so unusual for Kurt, almost exotic =)

Faded deep-blue jeans and green long-sleeved T-shirt… Come to think of it… it's the least layers I've ever seen him wearing. Quite suggestive…

Or not! But it's so hard to keep my thought straight… Images of him are so… promising. Open collar of his T-shirt gives the perfect view of that little hollow just above a collarbone. And I remember how he shivers when I touch that spot… And it's not because of tickles. I can tell from the way his eyes become deep-rainy-grey and his breath gets uneven. And it simply intoxicates me – to have that kind of power over him!

I totally forget that I'm handling a battle and glasses and a big puddle of water is an evidence to my dream-land journey. I clean it up wondering if it is normal for a teenager to get a sexual anxiety attack every time his boyfriend crosses his mind. Or this is purely my problem? Or is it the privacy of our current surroundings that get me all spiked up?

Or do I need to shove my urges back to where they came from and get myself in order? Come on, Blaine, at least you can try to be calm!

I bring water back to my room and handle it over to Kurt. He drinks it and puts a glass on a nightstand. His eyes stop at my face and I have a hard time trying to read his expression. It's so… soft, and gentle, and sensual… I can almost feel it as a physical caress.

Kurt surprises me with his words:

- Ask me again.

- What do you mean? Ask you what? – I know he's playing some kind of the game, but I don't seem to recognize the rules.

- Ask me again what you've asked me when we came into your house tonight.

Oh… Hmmm… Leave it to the single most interesting kid in all of Ohio to get me amazed and lost – yet still willing to play along just to see where it's going to. So, what was the question? Ah, yes, the good-host thing:

- Do you want anything?

Softly but very distinctly comes an answer:

- Yes. You.

That. So much said with so little words. As those words sink deeper in me, my whole body turns into magnet pulled towards this person in front of me. I try to shake this feeling away… I promised… no, I swore to myself that this is going to be perfect. And this time… just a couple of days after my drunken screw-up… is far from being perfect – I still have a lot of building up to do.

I shake my head and clench my fists as it pains me to say:

- No, Kurt, not like this. You deserve so much better. I want to make it so special for us…

He interrupts me – not with his words but with motion. His hand rises to touch my ribcage. Just fingertips – his touch is as light as air, but it still does wonders to my body. Tingling sensation spreads in waves from where he touches me – and I forget all I was about to say. Hell, I forget how to breathe!

Kurt's fingers trace the ornament picture on my shirt and his voice plays my strained nerves:

- Blaine… I don't need a meadow or background music to make it special for me… I just need you to feel the same way about me as I feel about you…

He pauses and somehow I know he's not just looking for the right words – he also struggles for some air to say them. Finally he switches his look from his hand to my eyes and I can read question in them:

- Do you love me?

God! And is THIS the question he has to ask?

I close my eyes for I can no longer intake the shining surrounding Kurt. My feelings choke me and with my last breath I manage to say:

- Madly…

For seconds… or maybe minutes… hours, decades could have passed – I wouldn't notice… all I can here is our speed-up breathing. All I can feel is his hand on my chest, in motion again, circling the shape of my chest, clawing it gently, sending every cell of my body to fire blizzard.

Kurt speaks again – his voice is deep and raspy, full of emotion and longing:

- Do you want me?

Wow, questions are getting better and better with each turn! As if it's even a question! Can't he feel the heat radiating from my body? Trembling in my knees gets to the point where I'm not sure if I could stand straight any longer…

I reach out to cup his face with my hands. I lean to him knowing that if I am to open my eyes I will meet his. With what I have left of my voice I whisper:

- It hurts me to stand so close to you and not feeling your body pressed against mine…

I hear Kurt swallowing hard. Was he holding his breath for my answer? Why would…

That thought dissolves with Kurt's hand tracing the curve of my bottom lip… to my chin… to my cheekbone… My hands drop, I'm shaking…

His voice sounds so much closer to me – I can practically feel him standing inches from me…

- Touch me. Feel me. Have me.

That does it. I open my eyes – and there he is – my own personal heaven. I must've done something pretty good in my previous lives to deserve him, haven't I?

Touch him… I'm a living torch – am I going to burn him? I reach out… and no – I'm not going to burn him 'cause his skin burns the same way. Or at least it feels like it. It feels like I've never felt him before and tonight every sensation is so much more intimate and filled with promises and liquid lava. It feels like his hands – always so soft and gentle – suddenly became hard and rough covering me with invisible scratches that instantly fire up with sparkles.

His lips… A scar on the left side of his neck… An inside of his hip…

I wish he'd stay motionless. It's too much to take in as it is – without him making it way more difficult with his every-present touch. How does he know all of it? How come that every time he touches me it's like a shot of some powerful drug into my overheated nerve system? How do I keep it up any longer?

With all the sanity I can summon I voice my thoughts:

- Kurt, wait…

- What? Did I do something wrong? Are you OK? – right that instant he gets so composed and thoughtful as if he was expecting himself to do something wrong and to have me to pull back.

- No, no, it's not you… I mean, it is YOU, but not in the bad way, - I have to hurry and stop him before he gets down the guilt trip. – It's just that… remember us talking about masturbation?

He blushes. I'd say it's adorable, but it's just way too hot! Everything Kurt does seem to turn me into steam-powered machine... Maybe he's right and something is off with temperature in this room? Or maybe I have a fever? Yep, that's it! For future references we'd call it "The Hummel Fever" – very powerful and dangerous but so much desired condition!

Kurt eyes stay focused on mine expecting further explanation. My words come out little muffled as I'm still trying to catch my breath:

- I just though… with all that "dry-run practice"… I'd be able to hold on a bit longer… And here I am – about to burst into flames… prematurely. I mean… You know what I mean! – I wonder if I blush too… - Maybe… we can take it slower? Like in real slow-motion…

Kurt smiles with this devilish smile of his. This smile singlehandedly can get me to lose my mind – and he knows it and uses it as a weapon! He catches the hair on the back of my head and gently pulls it back opening my throat to him. He leans over, kissing the soft spot behind my ear, my chin, my neck… going lower… burning my bare skin with his warmth and desire. Current runs through my spine and I arc convulsively, billions of little fireworks rising at once inside of me – heaven can't get any brighter and spectacular then this!

Kurt's voice reaches to me – all smug but loving, adoring, even admiring:

- Is it slow enough or should we go even slower?

And I remember nothing afterword. Passion, love and our bodies entwined in one single string of life. Not just beauty of the first time – beauty of us!


End file.
